


Dark Matters

by enchantingblooms



Category: Deus Ex (Video Games)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-18 17:09:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8169502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enchantingblooms/pseuds/enchantingblooms
Summary: "Where energy is neither created nor destroyed, but can be moved, beings like witches appear who can manipulate ions and molecules." The world is divided among three categories and kinds of man: naturals, augmented, and now, witches. Adam is thrown into the world when a powerful witch dies, it is up to him and another to try and keep the peace in a time where the pressure will build and mount. They work together to protect all three of these kinds, but something more sinister will come to play... (I do not own anything, but only the original characters.)





	1. Chapter 1

The issues with both the augmented and non augmented are still running high due to the incident that took place over 2 years ago. But, new tensions arise with a rare and elusive kind: witches. They are easily mistaken with the ability being either augmented or natural. They are being killed from both sides, especially with the zealots who burn their homes or condemning them for what they cannot change. It’s embedded in their DNA from their ancestors’ mistakes of selling themselves for power. And as of late, an incident occurred in New York City where everyone, both augmented and natural, ferociously attacked one another. The strangest thing is: no one from the incident can recall this happening or killing anyone. Credit was taken by the witches who are now standing their grounds. Some may believe it is the work of the Devil, some say it was caused by a repeat of that aug incident, and a few deny that witches exist. 

This meeting room was hidden and undisclosed in Belgium, set below the City Hall and in a bunker like area. Filled with winding corridors and business suites to discuss many diplomatic or current events. White halls and open, glass windows that peered into many of these suites. An air of civility clung to the atmosphere. Everyone dressed well in business suits that are in position to discuss issues that are currently unfolding around them. A few directors and commanders gather around to discuss this new storm. Miller being in the mix with having to notice this attack, but in denial of involvement of witches and enchantresses. He is more in seeing what is tangible before him. But, the other members of the special tasks argue that they have one with them.

“Ma’am, in all due respect, we do not have time for fairy tales of magic. I find it hard to believe that someone has the capacity to control people with a flick of a wrist,” Miller argued with Director Stansa.

The young female director dressed in her gray suit eyed him and watched him with furrowed brow, a sign that she was clearly frustrated. Her blonde hair in ringlets were suspended on her framed face. Those piercing sapphire eyes were focused on the gray haired director of Task Force 29 who denied all allegations of powers and abilities. She drummed her manicured hand on the table, thinking of something to back her argument. The older male on her right takes a sip from his glass, clears his throat as a signal. He clearly looked well into his late fifties with thinned brown hair and a rounded face from aging and stress he had with his agency he had command under. His eyes sunken and dark gray that looked to the female director of her own black ops agency. They both knew what kind of situation they have on their hands and do not have time for someone to discredit a possible suspect that has the capacity to destroy masses and crowds with a point of a finger.

“Director Stansa, should we bring her in?” The other older male asked, looking for the agreement. 

“Best we do so. In fact, Director Miller, we are offering you a gift,” Director Stansa answered, smirk tugging at her maroon colored lips. She leans to the phone, presses a button, and speaks into the microphone. 

“Daniels, bring her in,” she ordered coolly. 

The sounds of heels hitting the tile came closer to the room, followed by four sets of heavy boots, and made their way to the door. As the door opened, a woman stood in front of the heavily armed soldiers as they nudged her in. Her suit in black with a white shirt and black heels stood before the three Directors and the room of commanders. Her skin is a lightly dusted tan for remnant Spanish blood, eyes green as emeralds, brunette hair tied into a French Twist, a heart shaped face and slightly pointed chin, and high cheekbones. There was a slight distinct smell of perfume that was high end that wafted around her that smelt of sweet and musk. She is a woman that can turn heads when she walks in. Grace, poise, and intelligence was all she needed to talk to anyone. Her lipstick near black shade and eye shadow as a charcoal gray. A necklace of a pentagram rests on chest that was made of onyx that provided her with the boost for energy. 

“Director Miller, meet Doctor Cara Malone Knight. Doctor Knight, meet Director Miller. He doubts what you can do,” Director Stansa introduces, looking for a rise out of Doctor Knight. 

Cara only shrugged, only accepting that fact that there are nonbelievers in the world. She knows if she shows her power, they treat her as different. Just like the augmented. She had enough persecution to deal with in this world where all are divided and afraid of things that are different. 

“You’re telling me that she is a witch? She looks as she is going to a funeral,” Director Miller remarked. 

Cara looked over to the gray haired director, then lifts her hand, casting a spell to the table. The binders, papers, water tray, and office supplies are thrown across the room without effort or tangible explanation. A mess was made by the sorceress, who never moved from her position. She looks up, placing her hands on the table, radiating a purplish energy aura around her. Miller had no idea what to say, trying to find the right words to speak to the witch before her. The sorceress had a smirk tug at her dark lips, her energy returns back into her body and back to normal. Her smirk turns into full smile, the guards ready their rifles to riddle her body with bullets. But, she never moved from her position. Her eyes gaze towards Miller. 

“Let’s do something worthwhile, sir,” she replies calmly, her tone masking her cockiness. She knows she has an upper hand, but she is intelligent to not try anything in the room. She has seen too much fighting with what she has done in her past. 

Director Stansa is unmoved by what Dr. Knight can do, but she knows to not underestimate her powers and her capacities. She recedes into her chair and responded, “Miller, here’s my gift: you take Doctor Knight with you to Interpol, work a few of those...unexplained cases, then if you consider it, you can keep her around for your counter terrorist task force. Just put her in the labs or as a field agent or something useful. Besides, she has a sentence she has to serve. Dr. Knight, if you serve with Interpol, then your sentence is lowered or to virtually nothing. Win-win scenario.” 

Cara thought of her options, but that was the best that she can think of in order for her to get out of the special maximum security prison. It was nice to use her right to an education to be reeducated and redefined in her special institution she was formerly located in. Besides, with the current state of the witches fighting back, she can use what she can do to make peace again or counteract another alleged terrorist attack. Her best option was to take her offer that is laid out in front of her. 

“I accept the offer, but I have conditions. I will list them off to you when the next time we meet,” Doctor Knight said to Miller. 

“They always do, but I want to know that you will stay with us and not run off. I read your prior history, doctor,” he replied, “you were on the run for mass murder in broad daylight in Jackson Square in New Orleans.”

“You read the file, but you don’t know the real reason,” Cara quipped, tinged with anger in her words. 

“And why were you sent to this special maximum security prison then?”

Cara bit her lip in distaste and pursed her lips, her gaze in recall of that horrid day. The day that defined what she was and her powers coming out to the public. How she became the true label of witches. 

She took a deep breath, “witch hunters, sir. They are the ones who hunt us down like dogs. Most are naturals that do this. They are the ones who will drag us out of our houses and kill us in the woods or in public. They were looking for a witch in my area, but they grabbed my brother instead of me. My brother has no powers like me. They dragged him out of his house and were trying to kill him. I ran to save him while he was being burned alive in the public square. When I dragged him out of the fire, I had tears in my eyes and this anger that bubbled inside of me. My brother is the only family member I have left. I became enraged and immediately, I turned into something in public eyes and slaughtered the hunters that were all there. I do not recall on what I did, but when I came to, I saw lots of people with phones, camcorders, and recording devices aimed at me. I ran out of town and lived a life on the run before the law caught up with me.” 

The enchantress lowered her head in trying to shake the thoughts out of her head, in which, it was true. She’s been branded as a dangerous criminal, but in her eyes, she was someone who suffered too many losses. Her parents are dead, fiance killed in a car crash, and to witness what happened to her brother, there is no guessing to why she snapped. But, she raised her head in grace, wiping any remnant to remember that day from her gaze. She stood solid and poised, the look of someone cold who has grown used to the backlash of anti witch or aug or anything that isn’t natural. 

“Makes sense, but it is still murder,” Director Stansa replied, taking a sip from her glass. 

“What am I to you now, ma’am?” Cara inquired.

The older woman smiles at this question, for she had the right answer. 

“A gift to give, Doctor Knight. A gift that I think someone can put to good use,” she mused, looking at Miller, “she is all yours now.”

Cara shoot a look over at the other female who said this, unsure of what will transpire before her. Unknown intentions were murky, but she hopes that what happens next becomes clear. She looked at the gray haired Director and said, “I hope your intentions are well and I can be an asset to the world.”


	2. Chapter 2

Cara’s first day consisted of some people looking at her, some as a special new recruit. Then again, she is someone dressed differently. She walked with grace and poise, her leather jacket with faux fur around the collar, a protective and breathable body suit underneath, black slouch over the knee boots, hair pulled back into a French Twist, her black waning moon shaped earrings, and armed with her darkest red shade of lipstick and gray eye shadow. She turned a few heads inside of TF-29, but most respected how she held her composure with her cold aura she gave off. If looks could kill, she would be the definition. She made her way to her new office as her plaque read, “Doctor Cara Knight: Consulting Specialist.” 

The witch knew it was some sort of cover to help others not say that she was some magical consultant. It’s better to try and keep it a low profile on the magic unless it was urgent to discuss the situation. She placed her bag by her desk and removing a few black books, placing them in the nearby shelf. The books were used in ways to either draw or recognize runes and placed next to two amethyst book holders. Her computer on the desk was already powered up, but in need of creating a security password. She reached in her bag, grabbing a framed photo of her and her brother, Zach, on a fishing trip she went on with him a few years ago. A fond memory of how simple and better her life was. Cara placed the photo on her desk, next to the computer. She put several more books away, but they were novels. Horror novels that are classics: Frankenstein, Dracula, Strange Case of Doctor Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, and Sleepy Hollow. She loved horror stories since she can associate what it is like to be a dark type and enjoyed a good scare in her knack for reading. There was one more book that she placed on the bookshelf and it was the “Top 15 Works of Shakespeare”. It looked fairly worn due to her reading his plays cover to cover at least 3 times. Her personal favorite of William’s plays was The Tempest.

A member rapped on her door, telling her to head out to the main area for an announcement. Cara agreed and walked out to find fellow field agents ready to greet their new member. Miller was there as well to introduce her to his Task Force. 

“Everyone, this is Doctor Cara Knight. She is a consultant that specializes in things that are,” he paused for the correct word, “sensitive.”

Cara rolled her eyes in distaste, annoyed that she is treated with special care and with that title. She looked at them with pouted lips, her arms crossed, and corrected, “sir, if I may, I do not care if you call me witch, enchantress, or sorceress. It does not hurt my feelings or make me feel different”

Miller shot back a glare at the newest recruit, he was tempted to fire her, but he knows he needs her for the issues that are ahead. He exited and went back to his office in a huff. 

An augmented agent with black prosthetics walked up to the witch. He had his HUD drawn across his eyes, but maintained eye contact with the sorceress. His coat was length to his knees and wore his own combat gear beneath the black trench coat. He was pale skinned with dark hair and a trimmed beard. 

“Pay no attention to him. He can be a bit of an ass, but a good leader. Mostly,” he remarked with his low, grovel voice. 

“And he was one to doubt my abilities firsthand,” Cara concluded. 

“I noticed the start of an uproar with the witches. At first, I didn’t believe it until the attacks got stranger. It might be an advantage to have someone who can specialize in what you can do. Plus, a change of pace and a new face. Agent Adam Jensen, good to meet you, Doctor Knight,” he stretched out a black hand to shake.

Cara took the hand and shook it in respect, knowing that they are mutual and, soon to be, coworkers. She heard that he was American by no accent, at least something in common she noted. 

“You’re American, right? Where from?” Cara inquisited.

“Detroit, Michigan. And yourself?” Adam asked.

“New Orleans, Louisiana. The Big Easy. Ever been there before?” the sorceress asked.

“Can’t say I have, but I heard it is a party during, what you called, Mardi Gras.”

“You are right. It is a big party right before you have to give up a vice for sixty days. Like smoking, drinking, junk food, things like that. It’s called Lent.”

“Then, you won’t catch me celebrating that holiday.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

An Aussie interrupted their conversation with a question for Doctor Knight, dressed in combat gear. His accent was thick from origin of where he was from. His scar across mouth was prevalent, a medal of combat. 

“Oi, gotta question for ya, Doc. You’re a witch, right? So, what? Can ya read my fortune? Ya know, hand reading? Tea leaves? Those weird cards?” He asked Cara. 

“The only fortune reading in your future is my fist in your face if you ask that question again,” she quipped, annoyed.

Adam’s eyebrows raised in surprise that she quipped something back to Macready on her first day. She learned quick, maybe she is as cunning as she seems. Mac didn’t try to ask Cara anything after what she came back with.

“Maybe Hanzer here could get along better since, ya know, you two are weird enough,” he remarked.

“Gee, I might feel bad for anyone you are with for having to put up with your sarcastic bullshit,” she replied, shakes head with a sarcastic look. 

Macready stopped talking to her and carried on with his business, ending this conversation on a sour note. Cara looked at Adam, still holding her grace. 

“I know. I am a bitch, but I earned the degree in bitchcraft and can use it when I need to,” she said dryly. 

“You learn fast. Yes, he is just as much as a dick, but he is a part of the group,” Adam replied.   
“It’s called banter. I used to banter with my little brother back in New Orleans,” the sorceress said. 

“What’s your brother’s name?”

“Zachery. He’s a good guy. Glad to see where he is at now and not like several years ago. That’s a story for another day.” 

“I can respect that.” 

Cara nods, she knows this is going to be a long road ahead of her.


	3. Chapter 3

Rain falls into the city of Prague, a cold and wet day. Cara was already warm with her jacket on, she was out for a smoke break. The sorceress stood under an awning, pulling out her case of cigarettes and putting one on her lips. She sparks the end with her power of energy manipulation, no lighter needed. The smoke trailed off the end as she took a drag, her eyes closed in calm and embracing the semi quiet atmosphere. Her eyes scanned the streets, vigilance never rests for the enchantress. She picked up on someone walking up to her. The witch turned to find the black clad augmented agent walking out as well. Adam fumbled for a cigarette and got one out of his coat pocket, a chain smoker’s habit. But, he knows that nicotine and other chemicals do nothing to him on the inside. He reached into his coat pocket and searched for a lighter, but no such luck. 

Cara offered, “need a light?”

“Do you have a lighter?” the agent asked.

She shook her head, then points to the end of his cigarette and lighting it with her spell. The agent takes a drag, then releases the smoke. 

“Thank you,” he replied, holding the cigarette between his fingers. 

“Of course. Energy manipulation is always effective for situations like that,” the witch remarks, taking a drag.

“Are witches affected by nicotine?” 

“No, it’s just what a few of us pick up on, but we have strange metabolisms and immunity. It’s just something in our DNA that does the work for us.” 

Adam’s Sentinel Health Systems are what keeps him healthy and free from addiction of nicotine, but it was installed. But, with witches, it’s all DNA that defines what she is today. It was never a choice for her to have powers. She knows that her body is filled with energy that can level half a city, but she prefers to not use her powers too often. It can also drain life reserves if she progressively uses her powers.   
“You are born with being a witch. When did the powers become evident?” Adam inquired to Doctor Knight. 

“When I turned sixteen, I was manifesting multiple powers. It’s not uncommon, but if he or she masters more than ten powers, then you are looking at very powerful witch,” she answered. 

“And how many can you manifest, if you mind me asking?”

“Up to nine.”

“You were close to being-”

“Being revered, yes. But, a condition in my heart somehow, some way, prevented me from learning the last power. Arrhythmia.” 

“Irregular heartbeat. I read your vitals back there to be safe. Is it any hindrance for you to work?”

Cara shook her head, “it’s only minor. I can still run, jump, and climb normally-”

The conversation was interrupted by several people running to pocketed alley that turned adjacent from the end of the street. A panic of something that happened that was unexplained at the moment. The witch lifted her head, catching the scent of those that ran to the alley. She knew the scent of witch from her inherent abilities. Something was amiss. 

“Something happened. Just now,” Doctor Knight said, uncertainty crossed her mind. 

She ran down the street, her heart raced with fear’s scent strong on her being. Adam followed shortly, unsure of what this witch was talking about. But, if it is any danger, then he knows he’s called to act. He wondered with what event will unfold when he got to the location Cara is leading him to. The two reached to the alley that the witches reached to, but to a sight that Cara would never expect. She put her leather gloves on, walking carefully to the slumped body by the dumpster. The body had a black long jacket on with a gray dress that stopped at her knees, silver-crystal like heels, and with her hood of her jacket up. A dagger plunged into the body’s chest cavity. Cara got the distinct smell of witch off of the body as she approached. When she carefully removed the hood to reveal the identity, her eyes went wide and her eyebrows raised in surprise. 

“God, no,” she murmured. 

Adam moved the other witches back and was about to move the sorceress back, but the look on her face suggested she knows who or what consequence will emerge. He knows by that look, the problems will get worse. 

“Who was she?” Adam asked, looking for a straightforward answer.

“The Queen. The Queen of all of our kind,” Cara answered in an almost hushed tone. 

Most of the witches bowed their heads in grief including Cara, the silence cut the air like a knife. They knew that they had lost hope and feared the worst that can happen. There will be heightened tensions and anger will swell among all magic kind. It almost became quiet around them until the clock struck one ‘o clock in the afternoon, but however, the chime was louder than it normally would. Witches turned and exited the alley, but stopping any incoming traffic from entering. A few had tears sting their eyes, this loss took a toll on them. 

Adam knew this turned into an investigation fast and how much of an impact this created on all witch kind. He could somewhat gather that this was their leader was murdered in a saddening way. To die in an alley with some knife in the chest. If only he could know their secret lore and how they have a sub-society of their own, he would have an upper hand to figure this investigation fast. His best chances are to work with Doctor Knight as much as possible, get every bit of information of their lore and their customs. He watched Doctor Knight step back after she closed the Queen’s eyes. 

“Doctor Knight, can you tell me as much as you can about the significant role that the Queen played? I know she was your leader, but is there anything you can think of or what she was trying to do?” Adam inquired. 

“If anything, protect our kind. Make covens more accessible and protected for witch kind. She kept the lore and spells as sacred as the Holy Grail would exist. She was the brightest witch that we had in our lifetimes,” Cara replied, “And she was doing more research on energies that can be manipulated. How to manifest energy into spells. I don’t know policy wise with what she wanted to do, but your best bet is to locate a few council members of hers. They can fill you in on more, but there is a problem: they might not...find you trustworthy due to you being only augmented and human.” 

Adam looked over to the other witches who protected the scene and prevented anything from going into the alley. He looked back to the sorceress, “and do you think they might talk if I mention that I can take this case? To see that I want to bring justice for your kind?”

Cara thought for a moment, looking at options that are out there and how witchkind takes to that. At first, they may seem skeptical if it was Adam alone and may not want to assist. The witch thought if she were to tag along, they could get results and evidence. But, this may be the first time she has to work with someone. This will be overstepping her comfort level of how she likes to work alone, but she sees it as her best option. After all, this is a case that is unexplained and might fan the flames with witches against mankind. Only time will tell for a war that might erupt. 

“The best thing I can do is to accompany you in witch territories since they will be highly skeptical of you. And maybe, we’ll have better results if we interview the council together. They will most likely decline if you go alone,” Cara answered, “I have a feeling that this is only the beginning before Hell freezes over.”

Adam nodded in response to what is to come, understanding what consequences will unfold for them. Doctor Knight was correct on that statement. Hell will freeze over with what happened today. Many witches will mourn over a significant loss that will spark a revolution. Time is of the essence.


	4. Chapter 4

Several hours later, the day shifted to a quiet night with the lull of the city sounds of the slick roads, damp weather and atmosphere, and street lights lit lowly. A few pedestrians walk the streets at night, but it was an unusual night. A thick air clung around the sorceress, her cigarette in between her gloved fingers. She walks and takes a drag, recounting everything that has occurred today. The beloved queen murdered, but the question was how? That knife looked like a standard switchblade, the powerful queen would have at least survived longer or healed slow from it. Is there something more sinister at play? Something below and beneath the skin? Then, it clicked in her mind: another powerful witch did this, but the question rests as who? 

The enchantress stopped in front of a bar, she puts out the cigarette and discards the butt into a receptacle. Her mind said a drink for your troubles, honor the deceased queen. The bar lowly lit, a pool table and TV monitors on news channel. Eliza reporting the murder of the Witch Queen and what kind of trouble that can spell. Cara walked to the bar and took her seat, her hand notified the bartender. The bartender goes and asks for her order. Wine. Dark Merlot, aged 6 years. A wide, tall crystal glass before her and the tender pours the wine to halfway. Cara takes the glass, crosses her right leg over her left knee, without effort nor wanting attention, she looked like a beautiful, elegant woman with an air of mystery. She looked as if she could slay any hearts that gazed in her direction. The sorceress sipped her wine, sniffing out who or what is here. 

The sound of hushed clinking mail catches her ears, looking to right. The augmented agent she knows well, Adam. Her emerald eyes look at his face, the shades drawn over the agent’s eyes. Still a bit of a mystery of what kind of eyes he has behind the dark quartz lens. His jacket still donned and strapped at the collar and collarbone area. 

“Familiar face. Good to see you again,” Cara said calmly, still tinged with regret of not saving the queen.

Adam could see that Cara has to deal with gazing into the dead queen of witches earlier today. The witch does everything in her power to be calm in every situation. Behind the calm demeanor either hides a storm or a broken woman who is exhausted. And something else as well… Smudged make up on her left hand was in an attempt to hide some marking. It was fading from the glove rubbing too much on the concealer. The agent used his enhanced scanning on the hand and can make out a few white lines that formed a part of a pattern. 

“What is on your hand?” Adam pointed out, focused on the lines. 

Cara looks at her hand, then lets out an inaudible sigh. Sooner or later, she would have to expose it. 

“It’s one of my tattoos. I didn’t get it by choice though. It’s a rune that can amplify my powers, but can drain quickly of my energy,” the sorceress said.

She hates it. She hates all of her tattoos that she has. As much as it is powerful in combat, it made her look like a freak. All she would wear is anything that she could use to cover her tattoos. A few people in her lifetime have seen these markings and most of these people looked at her as if she was some demon spawn. It was never her choice to sign herself to become a powerful witch. Her DNA defined her when her ancestor signed it off for the family line to carry this burden. Maybe it was time for her to give her accounts of her life. No time like the present.

“Pull up a seat. I think it’s time you should know my origins,” she said, offering a seat next to her. 

Adam accepted the offer and sat in the bar stool next to Cara, ordering another glass of whiskey. He looked over at the witch, intent on knowing what kind of background she came from. 

“I was born in the bayous of New Orleans, a city that screams and surges of magic there. Voodoo being a common practice among witches, but some weren’t voodoo practitioners either. I grew up with both of my parents and my baby brother, Zachery. My father was a race car driver and mechanic and mom was programmer. Interesting couple, but they loved each other very much. It was a simple life with all of us together. I was young with no powers, no fears, no worries, and was free to enjoy my life. 

“When I turned 16, my first power I manifested was mind control. I could hack into someone’s head and control them to how I please. I did this with the preppy girls who kicked my ass in the locker room after gym class. One moment, they are smashing my face into the floor and the next moment, I looked at them and they went outside. The girls smashed the trophy case and got all the coaches pissed off. I told my parents what I did and they told me the truth that I was a part of a powerful line of witches.”  
Adam was quite surprised by the witch’s testament for what she is capable of, but also, noted that she can do this with any unsuspecting person. It puts her on the list of people he should never piss off. He took a sip of his whiskey and watched Cara, making sure his movements were his own. This was some deep and powerful magic this woman can be capable of. Mind manipulation even with an augmented person can be volatile and dangerous.

“You do not have to worry. I won’t do that to you, Adam. I want you all to trust with what I am trying to do. To start over with my life and maybe help this world from going to hell,” the witch responded, sipping her Merlot.

“Glad that I can see that you won’t try it on me,” Adam replied. 

“No, if I were to perform magic on someone currently, I would ask first. Now, where was I? Oh, right. After I displayed these powers, I was sent away to some coven that was disguised as an all girl boarding school until I was 21. God, that place as a shithole. It was divided to where your loyalty lies with one witch or the rest of the school. I chose the school, but that resulted in a lot of catfights, and worse. There were instances where one witch would die and comeback. Die and comeback. That kind of pattern. I went through it once and was brought back, but returned with the tattoos. It’s a friendly reminder of how much I hated that place and how I died.”

Another person with the story of dying and returning from the grave with anger and loathing. The city with the House of the Rising Sun was also known for its celebrations with death as well. Cara was familiar with it, but she dares not to look back on it. Her starting over is what she always needed. No more coven, no more prison. Just away to do something that can benefit the world. 

“You died?” the agent looked at the witch, brows raised. 

“Yeah, the worst way possible: murder,” she replied with a hint of bitterness, looking away.

Silence bit the air around them, but familiarity of understanding what the two understand what it was like to die. Cara knocked back her drink for a longer sip, allowing the spiced and dry liquor hit her taste buds. She closed her eyes, then pursed her lips and savored the taste. 

“It was the headmistress of the coven that did it. I got into a very heated argument with her about how power hungry, craven, and volatile she was. How she needed to stop scaring the witches away and fix what she did with one of the attacks on Bourbon Street. She took a knife and,” she gestured where dragged her makeshift fist across her neck, “did that.”

Adam was taken aback with how evil this woman that killed Cara was, having to gasp and choke on her blood. But, the feeling of that was mutual with them. Both of them died by murder and came back as...different. Somehow, they feel that can at least understand the gravity of everything that happened to them. Both of them attracted danger around them, but they are both strong enough to try and endure. 

“I don’t remember what happened after lights out. All I can recall when I woke up was swimming to the surface in the bayous of Louisiana. I made my way back to New Orleans and boy, did I get my revenge,” she replied coldly, “I called up the council and nailed her. She was burned at the stake for her actions. It was...satisfying.” 

By the end of her story of that, the agent knows that justice was sought, but as eye for an eye. Corruption that ended by the worst punishment: death. He heard the dark indulgence in the witch’s tone. Cara’s role was taken place in this punishment, perhaps the one who bore the torch. 

“You killed her, didn’t you?” Adam asked, knowing that Cara can grow cold when she wants to.

“I lit a cigarette, took a long drag, then flicked it on to the stake where she was tied to. She died a few minutes later,” the sorceress answered. 

“I recall that,” an unknown voice sounded from behind and in a booth. 

A male in a black suit with a red tie and dressed sharp, his drink was a scotch on the rocks. His ginger hair stood out with a spray of freckles on his face and hands, eyes like a greenish blue shade. Jaw and cheekbone features were chiseled to look like a sculpted figure of marble. He looks up and sees Doctor Knight in his presence, a familiar face and story that was told. The man takes his drink and walks to the bar to the visitors. Adam watched this man saunter over and made sure that he was no threat. Some mystery and yet, truth hung in this man’s atmosphere. 

“And you are...” Adam asked, looking for an answer and introduction.

“Adviser Bolton Fanning,” the man introduced, looking at the two. 

“It’s been a long time since we interacted, sir,” Cara said, welcoming this fellow ally of her past. 

“I am afraid that I am not here for just chit chat, Doctor. I got the news of what happened to the Queen today before I could fly to Beijing to help build the bridges with everyone,” Bolton replied. 

“Yeah, we...were too late to save her,” the witch replied. 

“This will make things difficult, you know.”

“I know, sir. Well, maybe you can help us.”

“How so, Doctor Knight?”

Cara gestured to Adam on her right, “this is my partner with Interpol. He might be able to help us catch who did this and make sure the murderer seeks justice. His name is Adam. If you let him ask the right questions, we might find some connection or motive with why someone wanted to kill the queen.”

Adam began with the interview, “you say that you are an adviser. For whom?”

“For the Queen. I would help her with policies, maintain the peace, update her on current events and how we should handle some situations that are thrown at us,” Bolton replied.

“Do you know who would want to kill the queen?” Adam questioned.

“Mostly hunters, a few augmented groups, well...one more who we, the council, suspects: Titus.”

“Titus?”

“The queen’s son. If you met him and know him like we do, you could see why would not be surprised if he had a role in this. He’s been known to be cunning and dangerous with intentions to become the next reigning monarch. But, before the queen died, the prince was removed from usurping the throne.”

“A good motive on why the prince would do it.”

“That’s what the Council and I believe.”

Cara wasn’t surprised by the accusation against the prince. Personally, she didn’t like him for his policies to make more covens strict by dividing natural witches and augmented witches. She believed that if one displays that kind of power, they should be allowed access to a coven for their protection and control their abilities. There is no need to add more fuel to the fire with their present situation. 

“If I may inquire, wasn’t the prince trying to separate witches that are augmented and not with his policy if he were to usurp the throne?” Cara spoke up.

“And by the policy, that was when the queen wrote him out of the line to take the throne. She placed a new line name to take the throne when the clock strikes for the next reigning element. But, we had to put the next coronation on hold until we get the witch or warlock responsible,” Bolton added. 

Adam commented, “very old fashioned to have a monarch, but is there a democracy placed among your kind?”

“Of course. The council have a say for our kind and we help in advising the queen or king in charge,” Bolton answered with a nod. 

“Then, did you and the council elect with the queen to remove her son from taking the throne?” Adam answered

Bolton nodded slow, knowing where Adam was getting at with this interview. The adviser knew that he was going to be a target. He took a sip of his drink quietly, his expression twisted in concern for these matters. 

“Bolton, I know you are concerned that you will eventually be a target for this person who murdered the queen. Here’s what I want you to do: tomorrow, you will go with Doctor Knight to Interpol, give them the information you told us tonight, tell them everything that you know that can help us arrest the murderer. Ask for protection and let them know that you want to speak as an anonymous source. They will help you as much as they can,” the agent ordered in his professional matter, calming the fears of the adviser.

“You have been a help to us, sir. I have something for you in a time like this. It’s the least I can do,” the adviser replied, relaxing back into his chair. 

He pulled out a token of sorts. The token was a small, black and shiny dragon’s head with carved scales. Its eyes like yellow topaz that gleamed in the low light. Cool to the touch, it looked as if it would strike at anything. Its tiny teeth cased in silver and a few strange symbols that were unknown in any human language. Adam rolled the figure around in his black hands, wondering why such a high official warlock would hand him this. Was it a possible key? A symbol for friendship? Something designated directly towards him?

“Think of it as a token of how you are helping us,” the adviser replied, rising to pay his tab and leave the bar. 

“You will want to keep that on you, Adam. It is rare for an official to pass something off to someone who isn’t witch kind,” Cara said as she was going to finish her glass of wine.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friend:
> 
> (a): a person attached to another by feelings of affection or personal regard. 
> 
> (b): a person who gives assistance; patron; supporter
> 
> (c): a person who is on good terms with another; a person who is not hostile

Adam was back in his apartment after the meeting at the bar with Cara and that so called adviser to the queen. As he sat on the dark couch, he had to think with all these questions: why is there such thing as a queen and council members? How do they play a role with mankind and this world of advanced science? How will the assassination of the queen make the world even more chaotic? These questions rattled his mind and kept him awake, again. He was never known to sleep well due to the nightmares of what transpired back at Sarif Industries. The destruction of the labs, the kidnapping of Doctor Reed, how he died with hundreds of shards of glass piercing his body and the shot to the head. Everything that took place is all a haunting memory that seemed too real. He wished it was just a nightmare that he could wake up from, but it wasn’t. His prosthetic limbs, Sentinel Health Systems that replaced his immunity system, the CASIE mod implanted in his brain, the HUD and retinal implants that allowed him to see the world, and more. All of it was a reminder of everything he tried to do became a failure. 

The agent kept thinking of motives, suspects, but one thought crept into his conscious: Doctor Knight. What role does she play with Task Force 29? What can she do to aid in this case? Can she be trusted in all this? How powerful is she? Is she only out to help in this case or is this a trick for her to leave and never return? But one thing was clear: he cannot get close to her in any shape or form. He attracted danger and trouble where he walked. When he touched something, it would go to shit in ten seconds.

The air changed in the apartment to where it was...calming. Eerily calming. The agent felt a wave of tiredness crossed his body, but his mind said to stay awake. He tried to fight this as he got up to move around. “Stay active. Walk around,” he thought to himself as he moved throughout the living space.

He protested as he walked by his bedroom, but the heavy eyelids and his body spoke of extreme exhaustion. A wave of nearly dropping asleep hit him again, this time, in a larger wave. He motioned to the bed and collapsed onto the mattress of black and gray sheets. His eyes shut as his head hit the pillow.

As he dreamed, it felt…different. Someone or thing invaded his subconscious. It was dark around him and nothing in sight, like death all over again. His limbs are the same black polymer, but his core and body, was golden color with him. The ground lit up below his feet, crystal like flooring below glowed a very light lavender color. Two black clock hands ticked slower as the second hand stopped and the first hand halted on a reddish orange orb shape in the clock. As he knelt down to investigate, he discovered with the other orbs, they were all different colors. Gold, sapphire blue, cyan blue, jade green, reddish orange, ruby red, amethyst purple, and snow white. Something about this seemed bizarre to dream this than the nightmares, but it was better than relive the hell. A pair of feet shuffled towards the clock from the shadows, reddish orange aura of sorts steps closer to Adam. The familiar face that looked upon him was calm and more peaceful. It was the queen.

Adam began, “I thought you were-”

“Dead? I am, but I cannot part without having to help you,” the queen interrupted, “I have some energy left in me to let you ask a question or two.”

“Who killed you?” the agent asked. 

“I cannot say for he is watching.”

“He can invade minds? Dreams? Thoughts?”

“He has surmountable research and magic that allowed him to invade one’s subconscious with ease. When one is asleep, the REM sleep still produces enough brain energy and electrical activity that still allows us to manipulate that energy to enter one’s brain capacity and dreams. The particles around us are varied by the elements you see here. Each different witch can manipulate these ions and molecules to bend and use to our liking. Energy is neither created nor destroyed, but can act with someone with the talent to use what is around them. The water from the seas, the electrical ions and molecules of the air and with everything around us, and like Doctor Knight, dark matter that surrounds us.”

Adam listened to what this manifestation speaks of with energy manipulation and how it affects these witches. He imagined with that kind of energy an augmented person can have if they can manipulate it. They would be very powerful, but as with augmentations, they require even more bodily energy to perform such spells and abilities. Maybe it could drain them of all they have.

“If you cannot say who it is, then tell me what to look for. Any clues? People? Locations? Items?” he asked the orange queen.

“There is a woman that can help and can get you information better. A witch that has the deepest of connections. Her name is Yennissa,” the queen replied. 

“Someone to consider. Next question: is Doctor Knight trustworthy?” Adam inquired. 

This question buzzed in the back of his head all day with being around this sorceress. She is clear of her intentions of wanting to do something for the world, but in what way will she do it? Will she take off once this is over? Does she consider him as a liability? Vice versa? Would she either try to harm or kill him in the end? Everything about this woman was only a sign of mixed illusions and mystery with her. 

The queen only smiled brightly like the Cheshire Cat, eyes lit up as well with this question before her. She knows the true answer, but she would rather allow Adam to make the judgment call.

“She is to be trusted...and more,” she replied with her smile on her face. 

“And more? What do you mean?” Adam asked, looking for more answers than just a cryptic reply. 

“You’ll have to make that call on your own and within time.”

“Then, why did you come to me than Doctor Knight? She could be more helpful in this case than I could be.”

“Ah, you doubt in everything you put your effort in since you fear the worst that can make this world come undone. Rest assured, you have a bigger role in this than you think. Both of you do.”

“I am afraid I have to ascend now. You should wake up now. Morning is nearly here and someone is going to try and kill you,” she said in a hurry. 

“What? I was only asleep for ten minutes!” Adam exclaimed. 

“Time...moves very differently, child. Be sure to remember that.”

In a wisp, she was in vapors and ascended upwards as an orange and red mist. Her soul leaving and moving on. As she left, the clock beneath the agent cracked from the bottom and moved upwards. Its cracks split like a waterfall form and gave way below his feet. He felt himself fall below the empty space, but...stuck in the fall with no end.

Adam jumped awake from his dream, still reeling from this unknown message that the belated queen gave to him. He started to doubt with what she told him with everything. A lead about a woman he never met, Cara’s motives and intentions, and what role he has in all this. The universe spat in his face with what happened with the attack at Sarif’s Industries and with Panchaea. But now, it seems it only wants to give him the illusion or right trick that can make or break the world around him. Or would the universe offer something that is not clearly seen yet in front of him?

His train of thought halted as he heard a loud crash at the door and a pair of heavy steps sounded on the hardwood floor. The agent got up and was ready to fight the intruder, he peered out of the crack of the door. His scans revealed something strange in his readings. This person had stone for armor that connected throughout its body. It looked around for the occupant, moving its head slow. Brown and black stones cased the one who was controlling the suit. The armor cased being moved to the bedroom with heavy steps. Adam climbed up onto the rafters above his apartment, going at in a stealth approach to grab this being. Another scan found a weak point behind its neck and knowing that can render the stone being injured. His lens drawn and sprung into action.

The agent jumped down with a fist hitting the weak point, sensory to feel was shut off before contact on impact. It was something useful for combat to make sure his pain receptors would not signal his brain. He grabbed the being by the back of the neck, but as he gripped the nape of the neck, the stone creature grabbed his arm and throws him through the apartment. Adam crashed into some boxes and against the wall. He looked up, face twisted into a snarl and ran to attack. The creature ducked and slammed his arm behind Adam, knocking him forward. The agent caught himself before hitting the wall again and charged at him again. He ducked out of the stone clad being and tried to stab the being with the nanoblade. It didn’t pierce the armor due to it being pure stone, but he charged himself up to land an earth shattering break. The blow smashed some of the armor off, but stones formed like a powerful like shield at an alarming and quick rate. This surprised Adam, but he knew he couldn’t admire it for too long. He ran and tried to land another blow like that again towards the being’s face. His fist was caught by the being and another punch landed on the agent’s face.   
The fight immediately changed tables as a pair of heels raced into the fray. This being looked up to the source of the sound and new intruder. Adam looked over and saw the familiar face, but his face twisted into worry. A lump rose into his throat, fear. But, not for him. It was for someone who he never expected.

It was Cara there. 

Cara smiled deviously, then charged up some purple like energy in her hand and released it on the stone clad intruder. It knocked the being off its feet, then it looks up at the dark witch. The enchantress charged up again and smashed the being again with a powerful, dark blow. More of the stones were falling off with each blow. But, this time, there was no regenerative effect on the stone being. It’s as if it counteracted the magic. The enchantress grabbed the being by the neck and surged with purple pulsating energy. The being struggled underneath the enchantress, but knocked her back in a strong swing. Cara got back up and ran towards the being a surge of her own power. Her fist curled and punched the being far back, then landed a swift kick to its head. The intruder got back up, but was interrupted by the witch’s agile roll and kick up with both legs towards the ceiling. Stone cladded enemy fell back onto the floor before it was grabbed by the enchantress. She absorbed some of the energy before she threw the being out from the third story window. A loud crash sounded from below broke through the quiet, early morning. 

Adam looked up at the enchantress with amazement for what she can do and that she can fight like a hellcat. Such raw, refined, and incredible power was about her. A quiet, calm, professional, and elegant woman hid a powerful storm behind those emerald orbs. Slicked in black as it was her badge of alignment, she assessed and looked around to make sure it was only one intruder. The sorceress walked over to the agent. She offered a hand to stand up. Adam took the hand and got up with the pull from each other, but something...touched his heart. His core. It was like electricity, but it was not like the effects of the sorceress’ power. It was a warm feeling, like a trusted...and mutual sensation. Something of being a possible friend or trusted ally. 

Cara asked, “are you okay? Anything broken or bleeding?”

“I don’t think so. Thanks for asking,” Adam replied, looking at the shattered and destroyed window. 

“Looks like your deposit is going to go down,” the witch chuckled. 

“No shit.”

Cara went downstairs quickly, knowing that she has to grab this assailant and demand for answers. The cold bit her face, but didn’t phase her. A loose strand on the left side of her head dangled, her lipstick smudged lightly on the right corner of her lip. She makes her way down, then grabs the intruder by the collar and slams him against the alley wall. Adam arrived shortly afterwards, looking at the failed assassin. The earth at their feet quaked slightly, but the witch held her ground. 

“Who sent you?” Adam questioned, arms crossed in defense. 

The being was quiet and did not answer. Instead, he spat towards Adam’s direction. This burned something fiery in Cara’s mind. The same rage she had when she attacked those hunters 6 years ago. The same rage that got her into prison. On instinct, she grabbed the being again and slammed it against the wall even harder. Dented walls and cracked bricks, this was a woman who has a storm brewing inside of her soul. She shouted something far more foreign and this time, the being replied in the foreign language. The witch nodded, created a purple, glowing shard with power, and stabs the being in the neck. 

Energy surges into the witch, rejuvenated and siphoning like a parasite to a host. The witch’s eyes glowed purple before returning to the emerald color she had. Her energy spiked as the being dropped below the witch. Its stones fell off the being and the being turned into a small male guy who was hiding behind that armor. Exterior masked the true interior. Cara looked at the small male and left him be, knowing that he will wake up later on without enough power to reconstruct his armor. That energy will be in this vampiric energy witch. It was one secret that a dark witch had. Electricity was easy picking for her, waves produced endless power to manifest, fire raged enough for her to obtain a power source, and with light’s, it was either a push or pull in that matter. Absence of light allowed her seep light’s energy, but when light opposes her magic, it becomes obsolete for her.

“What did he say to you?” Adam questioned.

“He was hired. The Earth Chief would never let someone do this,” Cara replied. 

Adam looked at the witch, scanning him for vitals and it revealed that he was unconscious. He knew very damn well at what Doctor Knight is capable of. Siphoning energy like a parasite was…astounding. Deadly. She was a woman of battle, beauty, grace, intelligence, and lethal tactics. A beautiful, springtime rose with steel thorns that can puncture. But, what he can see is someone who is just as soft as those petals that were kissed by the rain. In the way she cared for him as a partner, or a friend. This woman feels that she can partly bloom like the winter slowly coming to a close. 

“Thank you, Doctor Knight. You...saved my life,” Adam said in calm gratitude. 

Cara nods once, acknowledging the kindness and appreciation.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, all. This is a fanfic I thought about a while back and I also posted mostly on Tumblr, but I plan to post here on Ao3. I'll leave a link in my profile for you to go to my Tumblr for content. Comments and Kudos are welcome. Thanks!


End file.
